


From The Shell

by Katherine



Category: Outlander Series - Diana Gabaldon, Temeraire - Naomi Novik
Genre: Alternate Universe - Temeraire Fusion, Dragons, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-31
Updated: 2015-08-31
Packaged: 2018-04-18 05:34:04
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 640
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4693916
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Katherine/pseuds/Katherine
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <em>But all of this had been so fast, sweeping her (off her feet, too literally, a-dragonback and away to be assigned) away from her reunion with Frank.</em>
</p>
            </blockquote>





	From The Shell

The Aerial Corps do not conscript (if only, Claire thought cynically, because an unwilling captain could hardly result in the gain of a willing dragon). Her travelling about with her Uncle Lamb had familiarised her at a young age with places nearly as strange as a covert. Indeed, they had more than once visited a covert, although briefly.

But all of this had been so fast, sweeping her (off her feet, too literally, a-dragonback and away to be assigned) away from her reunion with Frank.

"Trained nurse, is it?" some officer or other said to her, as she with effort did not stumble when she was set back to the ground. He seemed to be confirming rather than questioning. "That's useful. Get some dragon medical knowledge into you all the easier. You might need it."

His dragon, big spine-edged head lowered to join the conversation, put in "Two hundred years is a long time to be in the shell."

* * *

She learnt about her assignment in pieces, patching them together from broad comments and overheard detail. "It being after the war," one of the older captains said, before with some awkwardness not finishing his statement. There weren't many young men left to put to dragons, Claire knew. And why would they send one of those to an unknown egg, likely to yield a dragon that was at the very least undersize according to the current time.

"—one of our Longwings, right, she sniffed the egg and put her nose right on it," one of the children running about the place related to another. "She said to offer a female captain."

* * *

The dragon cracked shell in a surge of motion, smooth until he had his head and neck fully out. Then his shoulders seemed to stick, and he held one foreleg close against himself. Guarding against pain, Claire thought, and took one step foreward almost without planning to.

But "I don't need you to help me," the dragon said. His voice was low but clear, and Claire allowed herself relief that he did speak English. There had been some uncertainty to that, since he had been in the egg so long. He was, after all, essentially from history.

"Then I won't unless you ask me," Claire said, doing her best to sound not only reassuring but as confident as she would with a human patient. The dragon was larger than she had somehow expected. He was a beautiful brownish red colour, like a deer, mottled and faintly striped witha pale gold Claire would have labeled blond had it been hair rather than scales.

His eyes were narrowed, a startling dark blue. "Tell me your name," he said, biting the words off short. Claire wondered if he was rude from pain, or hunger.

"Claire Elizabeth Randall," she said, considering that some level of formality was called for. "Will you tell me yours? Or let me give you one?"

The dragon answered unhesitantly, "James Alexander."

He craned his head nearer, looking at the dark leather harness she had over one arm. With more buckles than the standard, due to no-one quite knowing what size the dragon would be, it was heavy. Claire shifted the harness with her other hand. "Will you let me look at you—" She didn't think he would accept "examine" well, let alone "check your foreleg because I think you're injured." She ventured to say instead, "to make sure you will be quite comfortable?"

"I don't like your name," James Alexander declared as if he hadn't heard her question. "It's too long." He stared at her for a long moment, assessing, then his snout was disconcertingly close to her hair. " _Mo nighean donn_ ," he said, sounding satisfied. "My brown one. You may put that harness on me and be my captain. You haven't talons or even scales, so I'll protect ye."


End file.
